


An Unbreakable Bond

by bethbek



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Breathplay, Car Sex, Codependency, Fluff, M/M, Season/Series 01, keeping secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-21
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-05 23:53:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/729323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethbek/pseuds/bethbek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys help each other mend wounds after a run in with a wendigo. </p><p>dedicated/written for Danielle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Unbreakable Bond

"SAM!" Dean yells in a booming voice as the wendigo charges towards his younger brother. Sam whips around just in time to cock the shotgun and blast the horrid creature. It falls to the ground with a screech. With a dislocated shoulder, Dean limps over to Sam, who is just as battered. They stand above the still monster trying to catch their breath. 

After they've burned the carcass the Winchesters head back to the '67 Chevy Impala.

"Try not to get blood on the seats, ok?" Dean barks. 

Sam smirks at him from under blood drenched locks. 

 

As the two stumble into their dingy motel room Dean heads straight for the whisky whilst Sam grabs the first aid kit.

"Ready?" asks Sam as Dean takes a swig from the bottle. He turns around, facing away from his brother he braces himself on the creaky old table. "On the count of three," Sam continues taking Deans injured shoulder between his palms, "One . . . two . . . " CRACK! He snaps his shoulder back into its socket. Dean bites down hard on his bottom lip, trying to stiffle a grunt and drawing blood in the process. The taste of iron fills his mouth once more. 

They sit down on the edge of the bed together as Sam removes his torn v-neck, revealing three massive gashes on his left shoulder blade. Dean pours some of the alcohol over the wound causing Sam to wince at the burn of it. He threads the needle and aligns it with his brothers tender and raw skin, blood gushes as the needle pierces the flesh.

"You know," Dean starts, "I really wish you wouldn't put yourself in harms way like that."

"Well, just workplace hazzards, right?" jokes Sam.

"No, Sammy, I'm serious. You gotta take care of yourself, alright? I won't be around forever to-"

"Dean, you're not going anywhere. I'll make sure of that." Deans eyes drop to his lap, Sam watches as his adams apple bobs upand down. "Hey," he whispers, "look at me." He tnderly lifts Deans chin, causing their eyes to lock. "Nothing, and I mean nothing, is gunna happen to us."

A slight tear forms in Deans oceanic eyes. He wish he could believe the things his brother is telling him but he knew their ending would be nothing but a sad one. They gazed into each others eyes, a foreign longing grew in Sam. Then, unexplicably, the image of Dean, sweaty and naked rolling on silk sheets, enveloped his imagination. Initially he was shocked and abhorred with himself, but grew rather flummoxed when he realized how natural the fantasy seemed.

Simutaniously, Deans eyes find Sams lips; pouty, chapped, and split in the lower left corner. Yearning seeped through his abdomen; a fiery need. 

Dean clears his throat as they both tear their eyes from each other. 

"I'm - uh, I'm gunna go get a drink." mumbles Dean, removing himself from his baby brothers side. They both needed time to think, so Dean drove away and Sam opened his laptop and tried to focus on findng another job.

 

 

When the warm morning sun broke through over the horizon it embraced the pale sky with miraculous shades of gold and pink. Sam roused to find his brother passed out on the double bed opposite him; fully clothed.

They pack their duffle bags - the closest thing they have to a closet - hop in the Impala and drive off towards Michigan. The boys drive all day, listening to classic rock, making fun at each other, and trying to forget their aberrant thoughts from last night. As the sky burns red once more they are still hours from the nearest motel, so Dean pulls off down an old abandoned dirt drive way. They bring out the cooler from the trunk, crack open a couple of beers, and sit up on the hood gandering up at the stars for hours. In that moment they were content, happy even, not needing to say anything. All they needed was each other.

 

The tempurature drops as night lingers on, and Sam curls up in the back seat. Dean looks over his shoulder at his brother; his little Sammy.

"Hey," he whispers, "you awake?"

"Mmhmm," Sam hums. 

Dean shimmies himself over the back of te front seat and snuggles up next to Sam.

"Dean? What are-"

"It's cold," he replies rather sharply.

As they look at each other they know. They both know _exacly_ how the other feels. This was no longer codependancy; this was love - and not the brotherly kind either. Dean lifts himself to straddle Sam, their stare intense, as Dean brushes the wayward strands of hair off of Sams angular face. Their lips meet delicatly; benevolent and concupiscent. Smoothly, Sam slips Deand Henley from hs firm shoulders. Their breathing is hot and erratic as they start writhing against one another and quickly their stiff erections become prominent through the thin layers between them. Dean grinds his hips down against Sams, dragging taut moans from his lips. Soon they are both naked and vulnerable in the back of the Impala,  steam fogging up its windows. Grabbing the small bottle of lube he keeps under the seat, Dean spills a small amount over his fingers as Sam lifts his legs over the backs of the seats; allowing easier access. Sam digs his fingers into Deans shoulders hard enough to leave bruises as Dean inserts a finger. He twists it around inside him until he pin-points his prostate. Sweet mewling spills from Sam as his brother hits that special little spot over and over and over. Dean adds another finger, pre-cum seeps from Sam who is practically tremoring with need. Dean slicks his own pulsing cock with the lubricant, and aligning himself with Sams entry he pushes in slowly. He snaps his hips into him and the sound of skin slapping skin fills the car, their sweat makes them sticky against its leather interior. Neither can last long, Sam comes spurting out hot against their stomachs and Dean follows seconds later.

They lie, chests heaving on top of one another.

"Well," Sam huffs, "that's new."

"HA!" exclaims Dean, "that's for damn sure."

Sam drags a blanket over them.

"Goodnight, Dean." he whispers.

"Goodnight, Sammy. . . . . bitch."

Sam grins, "Jerk."

They drift off to sleep in the backseat of the closest thing they have to a home. 

 


End file.
